Marijuana Day at Washington Square

First time I smoked pot I thought it was a cigarette handed to me by a joogie
Long stiff boogie rolled up in white paper looked a thing of Virginia Slims
That day I tasted marijuana I knew nothing of what had become of me
Fire brand well lit green grass dried leaves set upon my wagging tongue
Attempting to get high with the boys at Washington Square where we sat
Listening as Reagan Youth gutted the space on stage spilled over guts
Glorifying the seed indeed a crowd had gathered in honor of a celebration
Dead beats riotous giving fist for fun it seemed what was a strange smell
Dead boys lifting off the ground carved like thieves set upon the fury
Self serving hunger grazed like cattle halved to the bone carcass thing
Wasted with eyes closed left sleeping as the music cranked out loud

We were Sudden Death fell among throwaways out in the gardens
Caught our breaths stealing away what was left of smoked blunts
In that kingdom above clouds we had died shed our skins for torture
I never did get high for it was one drag I took certainly no inhalation
A drugged nation crooked at the limbs barely able to walk dragging
For some it was a pungent kiss among dragons with breaths of fire

Oh Washington Square we had set our eyes on your park on this day
Our eyes bloody red from smoke falling head first onto pavement
What sirens we heard were not from cops who stood at guard’s sight
Declaration of independence on marijuana day at Washington Square
Where punks gathered blew wind into sky sat among leaves on high

Under a reckless sun we dreamt our days to come at Heaven’s gate
Under a reckless sun we breathed the breath of charcoal black slate

What mockery do you make of us society’s political damned dregs
We have no decisions to make none whatsoever in the here and now

In our sudden deaths listen when the music is over fading out of tune
The musicians will pack up their instruments making us want more
When they kill off the mic the sun will go down and we will drown
Drink from the bars near and far while we leave for our death beds
What a day we had at Washington Square as the sun turned to moon